The Fair

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At the end of the fair, I come to thee my love

with hands full of goods I picked in this market.

Things  attractive and unique, I chose

to offer to you ,with pride on my select.

 

But as my eyes rest on thy form most beautiful,

in stupor I throw away all my possessions from fair.

With sadness I look at you thru veil  of tears remorseful

I see you smile , O enchanter, and walk to your dear.

 

“My Love, this sadness is all I have of separation”,

I confess and wash your hands with love unsullied,

“My dearest! this is all I seek from you in supplication

and never shall we  part by  words or  illusional sword.”

 

After those words of yours, O alchemist!, tears turned

from salt to sweet while life became a magical fantasy.

I decked innocent white dress of bride new, and

wait for death to lead me to you- the source of supreme ecstasy.

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